400 THE EASTEEN HUNTERS. 



" Stop," he said. " Don't go in front," and he 

 stooped down and carefully inspected the ground. 



" What have you got there \ " asked Mackenzie, 

 who had thrown himself down under a tree, and 

 with hat off, was engaged in passing a small pocket- 

 comb through his hair a most refreshing and 

 restoring process, by the way, especially when per- 

 spiring profusely " What is it ] " 



" The pug of a tiger, Sahib," was the reply. "He 

 was here this morning." 



" And may be a dozen miles away by this. You 

 should have visited the water early." 



" Your worship, I would have done so, but we 

 saw the bear, and I could not leave him." 



" Ah ! well, take no thought of it. We may 

 perhaps get a chance to-morrow." 



" Sahib," said the man, " I think this tiger is not 

 far off. He was here late in the morning. But we 

 have no beaters," and he looked sorrowfully on the 

 small knot of men collected round. " I know this 

 tiger my curses be on him but I have not seen 

 his pug for a long time. He killed my father." 

 This was said in the calmest manner possible, 

 and as if a mere ordinary circumstance was re- 

 ferred to. 



"Killed your father!" exclaimed the hunters, in 

 a breath. " Gad I the man speaks of it," added 



